Struggling
by kookykey
Summary: Sequel to pain. He doesnt have the strength anymore to carry on living. But at least they can say that he tried.
1. Chapter 1

He finds it funny in a tragic kind of way, how quickly they have all forgotten.

It's been a year. One whole year since he held a gun to his head and desperately wanted to pull the trigger. He wishes he had. _God _how he wishes he had.

It's been a long year, full of pain and struggle and facing up to all the things he's denied for a lifetime. He hates it, with every ounce of his being he hates it. He can no longer block the memories and the agony that comes with them. He doesn't have the strength to pretend he's a happy guy anymore, he doesn't have the strength to carry on living.

He's tried, for a year he's tried, but he's so tired of feeling this way. He's too tired of being broken, he is so so tired of life and everything that comes with it.

He doesn't want it anymore.

But at least they can say that he tried.

...

He's done his best. He's done the therapy, once every two weeks he goes and talks to his doctor. Once every two weeks he lies.

He says he's alright, but he isn't.

He says he's feeling better, but he's not.

He says the nightmares have stopped, but they haven't.

He says he isn't suicidal anymore, but he is.

He says he won't kill himself, but he will.

...

He watches his teammates in a detached way, he can see their lips moving, but he can't process what they are saying and he suddenly realises that he doesn't belong. Not in this office and not with these people.

He wanted too, once upon a time, he would have done anything to feel a part of this team, but he doesn't care about that anymore, he doesn't really care about anything.

"Tony"

He registers his name and looks up to find Gibbs staring at him, concern etched into every feature.

"You good DiNozzo"

He thinks for a moment, the answer is undoubtedly no, he is not good, he is never going to be _good._

"I'm good boss"

He flashes his best smile and prays that it will be enough.

It isn't.

"Well you don't look good Tony"

"I didn't have time to style my hair this my morning"

He hears Gibbs sigh and he knows he can see straight through him.

"Look, Tony..."

He gets cut off by the ringing of his phone, the director, he needs to speak with him urgently. He is suddenly very grateful to Vance.

"This isn't over DiNozzo"

No, it's not over.

But it will be.

...

He sits at his desk and dreads the moment Gibbs comes down the stairs, ready to corner his senior agent. He knows Gibbs will continue with his interrogation into the mental state of his agent.

Because Gibbs hasn't forgotten. The others might have, but not his boss.

Maybe that's because he saw the worst of it.

He watched him slam a gun into his head.

He held him when he couldn't stop crying.

He listened to him scream and rant.

He let him break things without one word of protest.

He calmed him down after his nightmares.

He was there for him on his darkest days, he stayed by his side through his lowest moments.

He gave him a reason to fight, it was enough back then.

It isn't now.

He's run out of reasons.

...

_He sits at the kitchen table, lost in a sea of bitterness and regret, when Gibbs walks in._

_He sits opposite him and he just knows what he's going to ask._

"_I'm fine" he spits at the older man, anger rising up out of nowhere._

"_Okay, that's good. I didn't ask though"_

"_You were going too though, weren't you? That's all you ever ask. Are you okay? How you doing? Go on Gibbs, why don't you ask me how I'm holding up?" _

_He is standing now, shouting the words, ignoring the way Gibbs watches him. He won't ask. He'll tell him anyway._

"_You wanna know how I'm holding up boss. I'm not, I'm not fucking holding up, I am hanging on by a thread and let me tell you it's almost fucking snapped"_

_He's not just shouting now, he's screaming. He is shaking with rage and he doesn't understand where it's come from._

_Gibbs approaches him slowly, warily and that just sets him off again._

"_BACK OFF"_

_The order is accompanied by a glass flying at the older man. He ducks._

_Gibbs coffee mug meets the same fate._

_Suddenly he can't stop, anything he can grab gets thrown, cups, plates, chairs, anything and everything._

_And he just stands there, calmly watching him destroy his kitchen. He stops and feels sadness start to well up in his heart and tears sting his eyes. Oh no. Not a chance in hell he is crying now. He curls his hand into a fist and Gibbs must recognise the intent on his face._

"_No you don't Tony, you don't get to hurt yourself here"_

_But he needs it, he needs a way to distract himself from the agony raging in his soul. He needs a way to make it stop._

_He ignores him and takes a swing towards the wall, but Gibbs is quick and grabs his fist before it can connect. He lets out a hell of frustration and shoves him away with all of his strength, and then he can't stop it, he swings for his boss and his knuckles meet flesh as his fist connects with the other mans jaw. Then he's kicking and yelling and hitting and he just stands there. He makes no move to stop him, just stands there and takes the blows rained down on him. It's too much. He should fight him, he should hurt him. He wants him to hurt him. He deserves that, he doesn't deserve any sort of kindness._

_He shoves him one last time then sinks to the floor._

"_Leave me alone" His voice his hoarse and cracked with exhaustion ringing through it with over whelming clarity, and he does._

_Gibbs leaves him sitting with his head in his hands on the floor of his destroyed kitchen, surrounded by the shattered pieces of everything he broke. The broken shards that will have to be swept up and thrown away._

_The kitchen resembles his life_

_..._

That was only the first of many similar displays of anger. It wasn't the only time he threw Gibbs possessions at the walls. And he never gave up on him.

He never once turned his back on him. He still hasn't.

It took him a long time to learn, but he knows that Gibbs loves him and he desperately wishes that could be his reason to hang on.

But no matter how much Gibbs cares, it doesn't erase everything else.

There is only one way to do that.


	2. losing

He recognises the signs. He remembers all too clearly the events of last year. Now it's happening again. Tony is slipping away again. He is losing him _again._

He's not sure he can do it all a second time around.

Oh he knows he will, he will do anything to keep Tony's head above water, he will do anything to keep Tony alive.

He wonders whether that's selfish.

If he keeps pulling Tony back, if he keeps saving him, he is condemning him to live with the constant struggle that he calls his life. He is condemning him to live with the unbearable pain and suffering that forever haunts him.

He knows he's losing him.

He wonders if he should just let him be lost.

...

He's been watching him very carefully this past year.

He's watched him scream and cry.

He's watched him destroy anything he could get his hands on.

He watched him fall completely and utterly apart.

He watched him build himself back up.

Then he watched him lie.

...

_Tony is nervous, he can tell. He can tell by the way his foot is tapping continuously, the way he keeps running his hand through his too long hair and the way he keeps fiddling with the collar of his simple black shirt. It's the first time he's been properly dressed in a while. He knows the younger mans mannerisms as well as he knows his own now. _

_He hasn't seen anyone other than him for almost 4 months, and McGee and Ziva will be here any minute._

_Tony has been shaking for the last 5._

_4 months in and things aren't getting any easier. For either of them. Not that he will ever admit to Tony how much it hurts to see him like this, he doesn't want to add another burden to DiNozzo's load, he already has too many to bear. He's already been crushed under the weight of everything life has shovelled onto his shoulders._

_He glances over and can see the sheer terror in his eyes. Tony is terrified. So is he._

_Tony is fragile right now, volatile. One wrong word and he'll cry his eyes out or shout himself hoarse. Neither outcome is favourable._

"_It won't be so bad Tony"_

_His only response is to curl deeper into in the couch he's currently sitting on. That's the standard response, Tony doesn't really talk anymore. _

_He hears the door open and mentally prepares himself for the many ways this visit is likely to go wrong, Tony isn't ready to face this. He isn't ready to face them._

_They both enter the room cautiously, apprehensively, as if waiting for an explosion to go off in their faces. Unfortunately that's probably exactly what is going to happen._

_He can hardly believe his eyes when he looks at Tony and sees him standing steady, any hint of unease completely erased. His shock only magnifies when he steps towards them both without hesitation._

"_It's nice of you guys to come see me"_

"_We are your friends" _

_McGee nods in agreement with Ziva's statement._

_And Tony just smiles at them. A bright, blinding, believable smile and they both visibly relax, obviously buying into DiNozzo's brand new act. He does not._ _He can see through him now. Every_ _day he looks into Tony's eyes and he can see straight through to the lost little boy that wants nothing more than to cry. _

_That smile on his face means nothing. Anyone can smile, it's having it be real that's the hard part._

_Every bit of this new version of Tony is fake._

_He watches him interact with his teammates and feels his gut begins to clench painfully. There is a reason Tony was always picked for undercover ops, he is flawless. He talks, he smile,s he laughs softly, he makes a few jokes. _

_It hits him that he really shouldn't be surprised._

_He shouldn't be surprised he's falling back into old habits._

_He shouldn't be surprised that in between all the crying and yelling he found the time to create a brand new mask. _

_It shouldn't surprise him that out of the wreckage a brand new version of Tony DiNozzo has emerged._

_It really shouldn't surprise him, but it does. Because the man that has been living in his house for the last 4 months is not the man he is watching now._

_The man he is watching is completely in control, Tony isn't._

_The man he is watching seems okay, Tony isn't._

_The man he is watching is starting to heal, Tony isn't._

_It's McGee that finally asks the question that has been on the tips on their tongues._

"_Are you okay Tony?"_

"_I'm getting better every day" It's scary how he easily he can lie._

_He sees them to door once they are satisfied with their teammate's recovery. He wants to laugh at their naivety, their blindness, their inability to see the truth._

"_I am glad he is getting better" He isn't Ziva_

"_Yeah me too, he's gonna be okay" No he's not Tim. _

_He walks back in to find Tony laughing quietly to himself._

"_Something amusing you DiNozzo"_

"_Not a thing boss"_

"_You sure about that?"_

"_Oh quite sure"_

_He can hear the bitterness that taints the words._

"_That was a good performance you put on"_

"_What performance boss?"_

"_You know what DiNozzo"_

"_I am getting better"_

"_yeah ya are, at hiding"_

_He watches him shut down on him, annoyed that his act hasn't managed to convince him, like it so easily did the others._

_He storms to his room, slamming every door on his way._

_He can hear him crying through the floor._

_Getting better?_

_Going to be okay?_

_He doesn't think so._

_..._

The pain in his eyes has intensified. For one whole year he has tried so hard. It has obviously gotten him nowhere.

He is no better. He is never going to be better.

His life is now a constant struggle to make it through each day.

He knows he isn't going to make it through many more.

...

**A/N. Let me know what you think, I'm not very confident about this story**

**.x.**


	3. Pretending

He is running hard and fast.

His lungs are burning, his muscles are shaking but he won't stop.

He can never stop.

The icy rain pelts his already soaked body and he thinks vaguely of scarred lungs and infections, then he remembers he doesn't care.

He actually wouldn't mind a deadly bout of pneumonia right now.

So he runs.

He eventually stumbles and his exhausted body crashes to the ground and he just stays there.

It's the same pattern every night, run until he can't anymore. He wonders how far he managed to get this time. Not that it matters.

It makes no difference how fast he runs.

The pain will always run faster.

...

He's fallen back into his old habits. They really do die hard.

He is lying to them again.

He is hiding from them.

He is doing everything he can to ensure the people around him don't see the constant struggle it is for him to carry on with the simple act of breathing.

He is pretending. He has always been pretending.

He's pretend to be happy.

He's pretended his life is worth something.

He's pretended to be someone good, someone that is deserving of love.

He is not any of those things.

He tried, he tried so very hard to be that man but it didn't work.

He was never good enough. He never will be.

He spent so much time trying to prove his father wrong, but he now knows without a doubt that every insult he threw at him was true.

He just pretended that they weren't.

...

_The back of his father's hand sends his flying to floor. He immediately begins to push himself back up, knowing that he will be expecting him to resume his position in front of his desk quickly._

_This situation is all too familiar to him. He knows that's wrong but there isn't much he can really do about it._

_He straightens up and tries not to be affected by the look of pure disgust in his father's eyes._

"_What do you have to say for yourself boy"_

_Well not much considering he has no idea what he's done. He very rarely does._

"_ANSWER ME"_

"_I don't know sir"_

"_Of course you don't, your fucking stupid that's why"_

_He takes a deep breath and reminds himself to stay calm. This is nothing he hasn't heard before. Unfortunately that fact doesn't make it hurt any less._

"_How did I produce such a weak worthless child?"_

_Another smack, this time he manages to keep his balance._

"_I'm sorry father"_

"_Yes yes, you're always sorry. Always apologising. But you don't change do you. You're still a failure. Isn't that right?"_

"_Yes sir"_

"_Say it, tell me what you are boy"_

"_A failure sir"_

_He smirks at him, a cruel twisted smile and he feels his blood run cold. Then the tremors start._

"_And a disappointment don't forget that one"_

"_I won't sir"_

_How can he? It's all he hears day after day. He doesn't think he will ever be able to forget how unwanted he is._

"_Even your own mother couldn't stand you. She could never love such a despicable creature"_

"_LIAR" it explodes out his mouth before his self preservation can kick in and stop it._

_The rest is a blur of anger, fists and pain, with harshly spoken words drifting through the roaring in his ears._

_Disappointment_

_Worthless_

_Weak_

_Failure_

_Unwanted_

_Unlovable_

_All the things he already knows._

_..._

He can still feel the fists pounding him.

He can still hear the words ringing in his ears.

He is forever haunted by the ghosts of his childhood.

Why did his father have to right? Why couldn't he have proved him wrong?

Maybe time ran out, or maybe he just ran out of hope.

...

He makes his way home and he really shouldn't be surprised to find Gibbs waiting for him.

"Hey Boss"

"You look like crap Tony"

"Well you're full of compliments today"

They sit in silence and he really wants to tell him about the insults and the beatings. He wants Gibbs to be able to take away all his pain, he wants him to be able fix him, but he can't and it isn't fair to lay that on the other mans shoulders. He has already done so much.

So he'll bite his lip, ignore the bleeding and pretend its okay. When in reality it's really not.

"Listen to me Tony, I know your struggling but"

"Don't Gibbs. Don't tell me things will be okay, because they won't. Don't tell me I'm taking all of this too hard, because you are not me, you have no idea how deep these scars go. Don't ask me if I'm okay, because we both know that I'm not."

He treats the silence as acceptance.

He knows he won't be okay, just like Gibbs knows he's not getting better. Getting better isn't an option for him.

"Aw hell DiNozzo"

He feels a stab of guilt at his Boss' defeated tone. He really doesn't want to hurt him, but he doesn't see any other way out of this mess.

"What can I do Tony?"

Desperation now. He is desperate too. He is desperate for this all to be over. He doesn't want to be struggling anymore, he doesn't want to be this sad, this pitiful. He just wants it all to stop.

His response is hiding behind his hands and wondering how the hell he ended up here.

Gibbs pulls him close, but it's not comforting anymore, it makes him feel trapped. It makes him feel guilty.

"Let me help you"

"I don't think you can, I think it's too late"

He holds him tighter and he has to fight the urge to pull away and run. To keep running and never stop.

There were times over the past year when he really believed that Gibbs would be enough to pull him through.

It breaks his heart that he isn't.

...


	4. Letting go

He watches his agent, his friend sit there silent in his suffering.

He is shaking, his clothes are drenched, so are his for that matter from clutching him so tightly.

He didn't want to let go.

He had to though, he could feel DiNozzos fight or flight kicking in, he could feel the discomfort radiating off him. So he released him. He let him go.

He thinks he's going to have to let him go completely.

...

Tony's lip is clamped between his teeth, his eyes darting in any direction but his.

"Talk to me Tony" He aims to keep his tone as blank as possible and hopes like hell that DiNozzo doesn't hear the pleading in it.

He doesn't talk.

His lips remain firmly closed, stubbornly guarding the secrets he so desperately wants to hear.

Maybe if he knew, _really _knew he'd be better equipped to help this man that he cares about so much.

Maybe he'd be able to learn the right words to say and the right moves to make, that could heal his friend.

But he's kidding himself isn't he?

There's nothing to heal, all that remains are scars. You can heal wounds, you can patch them up so that they don't leave a scar, but if a cut remains open, if it goes untreated it will leave behind its mark.

It will leave a scar that will never fade away, because scars are imprints of pain that have been etched onto a person's soul.

He might be the 'almighty' Gibbs, but he even he can't heal that.

There isn't a power on this planet that can.

...

He is doing his best to ignore Gibbs unwavering gaze, he stares at his hands and is startled to see them shaking, then he realises his whole body is. He suddenly remembers the running and the rain and the soaked clothes he is currently sitting in.

But he doesn't feel cold.

Not physically anyway.

"Talk to me Tony"

_I want to Gibbs._

He can't though, he can't bear to give voice to the demons that plague him.

Mostly because he wouldn't know where to start, because he doesn't really know when _this_ started.

Was it the first smack?

Was it the first cruelly spoken put down?

The first alcohol fuelled whipping?

Did it all begin with his mother's death?

Or was it his father's cold abandonment?

Maybe it wasn't his childhood at all, his adult life hasn't exactly been smooth sailing.

Maybe it started when his football career ended.

It could have begun with that betrayal in college, or the time his second partner screwed him over and left him to die.

He really wishes that he knew.

He wishes he could pin point the exact moment he began to feel so hopeless.

But then he thinks, does it even matter how it started? All that matters is that it just kept getting worse.

He just kept falling, he kept spiralling down at lightning speed towards to inevitable bottom.

He crashed last year, and he's still burning.

...

The silence is killing him, but he can't bring himself to break it. He can't do anymore pushing tonight. He has done all he can.

It wasn't enough.

He can't crawl into Tony's head and gun down his memories, he can't glare at them to stop torturing the man.

He can soothe and he can calm and he can whisper reassurances that neither of them believes, but it will never be enough.

Tony is far beyond anyone's reach, so far past the point of no return that going back is not an option.

He didn't want to believe that DiNozzo was a lost cause, but even he has to admit defeat sometimes. He's admitting a lot of things now.

He admits that it's too late.

He admits that he cannot help Tony.

He admits that he's come to terms with the fact he's going to lose him.

He admits that he has accepted that tonight will be his goodbye.

It's time to let Tony end the show.

It's time to let him go.

...

_He's settling himself in for a night with the boat, he has his jar of bourbon and his mind is firmly on his task. Then he hears the front door open._

_A few moments later his newest agent ambles down the stairs._

"_Hey boss"_

"_DiNozzo"_

"_She's really coming along huh" he nods towards the boat as he sits himself down on the steps._

_This is Tony's third visit to the basement and he still isn't quite sure what the younger man wants from him._

"_What do ya want DiNozzo?"_

_He prepares himself for an answer, hoping it isn't anything he won't be able to handle._

"_Me? I want a lot of things, but I guess at the tippity top of the list would have to be a Ferrari. A bright shiny red one, leather seats and-"_

_He is sure the head slap was expected._

"_Thanks boss" _

_He waits for another answer before he realises his agent isn't going to give him one._

_He then notices the item he is holding._

_The first time he wandered down here he came empty handed, second time he came armed with pizza, this time he has a six-pack of bud lite._

_The pizza he can understand, but why bring beer when there's perfectly good bourbon?_

_Tony the apparent mind reader smiles sheepishly and answers his silent question._

"_I know you drink bourbon strong enough to make the lining of your stomach hate you, but I prefer to stay on the lighter side of the spectrum"_

_The tone is light and casual, but there is a dark intensity in his eyes that he doesn't quite understand._

_He adds it to list of the strange little misfits and odd behaviours he's picked up about DiNozzo the past few months. It's getting to be a pretty long list._

_DiNozzo is a lot more complex than he seems at first glance._

_He watches as he nonchalantly cracks open a bottle and takes a sip, then he seems to notice the questioning glare sent in his direction._

"_Oh don't mind me. Please continue"_

_So he does, he sands the wood and can feel the younger mans eyes burning into his back, and he wonders again what it is he wants from him. What is he hoping to find. Maybe he just wants a friend. He can give him that._

_Before he a chance to debate how he could say that without sounding completely ridiculous, Tony beats him to it. His mouth really does run at a hundred miles an hour, but he finds himself listening, laughing, and joining in._

_He marvels at DiNozzo's ability to make him feel so at ease. _

_Then is suddenly very glad he took a chance on the reckless homicide detective._

_He thinks a great partnership is now in the making._

_..._

That was only the first of many companionable nights spent chatting by the boat. Or more accurately Tony chatted and he occasionally managed to slip a sentence or two in there.

He allows himself to wonder despairingly for a moment _where that man went?_

"Boss you okay?"

He is abruptly pulled from his memories by the alarmed and wary tone of his agent. It is only then he realizes his eyes are stinging, indicating the tears that are threatening to fall.

He looks into Tony's eyes and sees two twin pools of guilt staring back at him.

O no he is not going to let him do that. He won't let him torture himself that way.

He takes a deep breath and swallows the lump in his throat back down.

"It's okay Tony, I don't blame you and I could never hate you, I want you to know that... that it's alright son. I understand"

He can tell that Tony doesn't.

He stands and for a moment wonders what the hell he is doing.

"I love you Tony, I need you to believe that"

He won't leave until he believes that.

"I do"

"I love you"

He says it one last time and heads for door, not pausing to look back.

He makes it to his car before the tears start to fall and then they won't stop.

He forces himself not dwell on the repercussions of his decision to leave, it was going to happen whatever he did, and if it helps his friend any to know he wouldn't be angry with him then he really had no choice.

He needs to drive but he can't, he is too busy letting go of all the anger, frustration and sadness that has plagued him for the last year.

He wonders how Tony kept it in for so long. That's what comforts him, his life may be ending soon, but so is all his pain, he won't have to struggle anymore.

He is glad for that, but his heart still breaks.

He doesn't think it will ever be whole again.

...

**a/n. Wasn't sure about this chapter. Any thoughts?**

**.x.**


	5. Free

He just sits there for a long time after Gibbs leaves. He can't move, he can't think. He is stunned into complete and utter stillness.

Did he really just give him permission?

Did he really just walk away?

He tries to find the kindness in Gibbs actions, tries to tell himself he left because he cares, but he can't help but feel slightly betrayed.

He knows it's irrational, after all he's the one that's been saying all this time that he is too far gone for anything to make a difference, he's the one that told him there was nothing left to save.

So why does it sting like a thousand paper cuts?

Why are tears filling his eyes?

Gibbs is finally giving him what he wants.

So why doesn't he want it anymore?

...

He feels so confused now and alone, so very alone.

But that's another thing that isn't fair, he really shouldn't have expected Gibbs to stick around and watch, couldn't expect the man to put himself through that.

But dying alone in an empty apartment seems so very tragic. A perfect ending he supposes.

Tonight it will all be over, no more pain, no more memories, no more struggling to make it through one moment to the next.

Tonight he is free.

It doesn't bring him as much comfort as he thought he would.

...

He stares at his boat, to worn out to work on it. His mind is elsewhere. His mind is waiting for the phone call that will shatter everything. His mind is waiting for the inevitable.

He wishes like hell he could have gotten through to Tony, got him open up and the let the hurt bleed out, but a lifetime of silence about the things that actually matter was too hard of a pattern for the man to break.

He tries not to think about him dying alone, it is what he wants after all. He tries not to think of his lifeless body lying on the floor. Mostly he's just trying not to think.

He wonders if the kind of pain he feels now is what Tony had to live with day after day. The pain of not being good enough. Even though Tony was so much more than just good enough, he could never believe it.

He is not good enough.

He was not a good enough friend.

He was not a good enough boss.

He was not a good enough mentor.

He was not good enough to save the person that meant the most to him.

He told Tony truth, he will not be angry with him.

He'll be angry with himself instead.

...

He wonders vaguely if he should leave a note, then dismisses the idea. There are no words that he can put on paper to truly reconcile his actions, no way to tell them in a way they could ever comprehend.

He takes a deep breath and tries to rationally think about how to do this.

His gun would be the obvious choice, or he could cut like his mother.

Is that fair though?

To leave behind a mess to be cleaned up, to continue with his lifelong habit of making a fucking mess. No he wants to keep this simple.

Pills.

They'll do

He stares at the bottle of his anti-depressants, thinking that they do hold the cure. They will definitely end his depression.

They will set him free.

...

It's been two hours and he hasn't moved an inch. A bottle of bourbon somehow found his hand but it remains unopened. He has to be sober tonight. He owes that to DiNozzo.

God he owes him so much more.

Tony brought the light back into life, helped him begin to care about things again.

He saved him. But he can't return the favour.

He hasn't hated himself this much since he lost Shannon and Kelly.

He stands up suddenly unsure of the reason why, but he feels unease creeping up on him.

Then the phone rings.

...

**A/N. Sorry it's been so long since I updated and I'm sorry it's not very long. Real life got in the way. How rude of it!**


	6. Decisions

_He sits huddled in the corner, an arm wrapped protectively around his fiercely aching ribs. He has bit straight through his lip, trying to keep from crying out. He really just wants to cry. It hurts so much._

_He doesn't understand why his father is always so mad at him._

_He curls into himself instinctively when the door opens, doing his best to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. He almost breathes a sigh of relief when it's his mother who enters, until he sees the tear tracks on her cheeks and the slight sway to her steps._

_He doesn't like it when his mother drinks._

_He watches as she sits at her beloved piano and buries her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. _

_He doesn't like it when his mother cries._

_He wants to go to her, but it's killing him to just breathe deeply, he doesn't want to imagine how much moving will hurt him._

_He decides he will just have to hurt himself to help his mother. He rises slowly, the pain making him gasp._

_She turns sharply at the sound and stares at his battered little body. Fresh tears fill her eyes as she registers the newly blacked eye._

"_It's okay mother"_

_He can almost see her break._

"_Oh Anthony it is not okay, I'm so sorry baby"_

"_My fault I'm bad mother"_

_She crumbles at his words._

"_You're not bad baby, come sit with me"_

_He can clearly hear the slur in her speech, but he decides it doesn't matter, because she doesn't think he's bad._

_He limps slowly over to her and the beautiful instrument as she tries not to see how hurt he really is. He sits next to her and none of them speak._

_She begins to play a soothing melody and he tries to pretend he's just an ordinary child sitting with his mother. He tries to pretend his father didn't just break his ribs._

_She stops playing and carefully wraps an arm around his shoulders, he can't help but flinch at the contact._

"_Were you a brave boy Anthony?"_

"_Of course mother"_

_He has to be brave._

_His mother likes it when he is brave._

"_You must try to be good my baby"_

"_I do try, I promise"_

_He really does, but he can never seem to get it right._

"_Oh baby"_

_She begins to cry again, she was always so sad._

_She leaned into him and whispered into his ear._

"_I love you"_

"_I love you to mother"_

_He just wishes she was stronger, that she would help him more._

_But he ignores the way she lets the beatings happen, he ignores the fact that she's drunk the majority of the time, and he focuses on those three simple words._

_His mother loves him._

_Whatever happens he guesses he will always have that._

_..._

That was the last he ever heard those words from his mother. And after her death he began to seriously doubt there sincerity.

She left him. She knew what would happen and she left him.

He can never forgive her for that.

Gibbs told him he wouldn't be angry, but he doubts that's the truth. He can still feel the anger he directed towards his mother after her suicide, he can still feel how desolate he felt.

Will Gibbs really be able to forgive him?

Will he really just accept it?

Is he really just letting him die?

...

He's trying not to be angry at Gibbs. He has done what he thinks is right. He has done what he thinks he wants.

He hasn't said otherwise. Gibbs doesn't know that he might not want it anymore.

He no longer has any idea of what he wants.

All he knows is that _it hurts._ Life hurts, and he is so sick of struggling to be okay.

He told himself once that pain is a part of life, and it is, an unavoidable part. But he's just figured out that it isn't the pain that destroys you, it's the hope that one day the pain will become bearable that destroys you, because once hope is gone, there's nothing left.

He has nothing left.

Maybe he never had anything to begin with.

...

He stares at his pills and knows he has to make a choice now.

One year ago he wouldn't have hesitated.

One year ago he wouldn't have thought twice.

One year ago he'd already be dead.

But this isn't one year ago and he's still here. He's still thinking, he's still deciding and he is finding this a lot more difficult than he ever dreamed he would.

It should be simple.

It should be easy.

It should be over.

So why isn't he ending it?

...

He has to stop thinking. He has to start deciding.

Is he going to go through with this?

Is he going to kiss goodbye to all his troubles?

Is he finally going to find some sort of peace?

Or is he going to try?

Is he going to do his best to be a person again?

He is going to run to Gibbs and beg him to save him?

Is he going to learn how to live, even though he thinks he wants to die?

...

Does he though?

If he wanted to die, if he really, desperately didn't want to be alive anymore would he not have done something already? Would he not have finally got it over with?

Something is stopping him.

Gibbs is stopping him.

This will hurt the man, hurt him deeply. He doesn't want to be responsible for that.

He stares at the phone he wishes would ring sitting innocently on the coffee table.

He does not know what to do.

He has the pill in one hand, and the phone in the other.

He just doesn't know which to use.

...


	7. Endings

He sits and stares at his choices, wishing a solution would materialise from thin air. He fiercely wished for an epiphany that would make it all seem clear.

It didn't come.

He was still confused.

He was still unsure.

He was still alone.

No one could make this decision for him, no one could tell him which path to choose.

This was his decision.

This was his choice.

He could end it now, he could be free of his lifelong demons, or he could do what he's always done and pretend that they aren't there. He could invent a new version of himself and attempt to have some sort of life.

But that hasn't worked so far, eventually the mask falls away and he is left a mere echo of a man. A shadow of someone that once shined so bright, but that was just another lie, he never really shined, he just wanted to believe that he did.

Last year he put the gun down and condemned himself to a pitiful existence.

He doesn't want an existence, he wanted a life.

He can't have one. He knows that now, on some level he has always known that.

If he calls Gibbs he'll come swooping in like he did last time and maybe convince him not to throw himself away. A quick fix. Then he'll find himself right back where he is now, because his sadness, his torment, his struggle are not things that can be defeated. They will always creep back up on him and bring him to his knees. They will always win, and he will always lose. He doesn't have the strength to continue his battle with them.

He is waving his white flag.

He is surrendering.

He is giving up.

He is ending this.

He is taking the pills.

...

Life is different now, so drastically different and he does not like the change.

It tortures them all in different ways but they are all united in their grief at losing someone that meant so much.

They all share the guilt.

Tony-his Tony is gone, he lost himself to the depths of his haunted mind and could see no way out. There was no happily ever after for Anthony DiNozzo.

He stands there stoic in black and feels disgusted at himself for the relief he feels.

Relief that his friend, the closest thing to a son he will ever have is no longer in pain.

His suffering is over, and he hopes like hell he has finally found the peace that always eluded him.

They asked him to speak but he declined, he can't put his anguish into words, he can't stand there and tell people of a life well lived. He can't stand there and lie.

So instead he stands silently and tries not to blame himself. He tries to convince himself that he didn't abandon Tony in his most desperate hour.

Tony didn't blame him.

Tony is gone.

Life is very different now.

...

_The phone rings and his stomach fills with dread, this is the call he has been expecting, the call he hoped would never come. The call he knew he would receive._

"_Gibbs"_

_That voice is way too shaky to belong to him._

"_Hey boss"_

_The sound of his agent's voice stuns him, and hope begins to replace the dread._

"_Thank god Tony, listen-"_

"_No Gibbs, I need you to listen to me"_

_He detects the slur in the younger mans speech and the dread returns like it never left._

"_You listening boss?"_

"_I'm listening" _

_He wonders if he phrased it like that intentionally._

"_I'm sorry boss, rules be dammed, I am so sorry for doing this to you. Don't ever doubt yourself boss you did all you could and you helped me in more ways than you know. I will be forever grateful for chances you've given me, for the care you've shown me. You have been the most important person to me for so long and I want you to always remember how much you meant to me. Goodbye boss. I love you too"_

_He ends the call before he has a chance to respond, he doubts he could even speak at this point._

_He drives at insane speeds towards the apartment he never should have left._

_By the time he gets there it is already too late._

_All he finds is Tony's lifeless body, still clutching his cell phone. He looks so calm, so peaceful and in that one moment his world ends. His heart breaks beyond all repair and he cries._

_He cries in agony at the devastating sight before his eyes._

_He cries for the man that never saw how brilliant he was._

_He cries for the child that never felt loved._

_He cries for his friend._

_He doesn't think he will ever stop._

_..._

He will never forget the last words Tony said to him. They are forever burned into his memory. The same way his failure is.

Tony says he did his best and maybe he did, but the fact that his best wasn't good enough stings.

The fact that he has lost him cuts deeper than he thought possible.

He throws a handful of dirt onto the coffin and imagines that he has just thrown the bit of his soul that broke when Tony died.

...

Despite what Tony may have thought he was never forgotten. He was held in the hearts of his team. They mourned and they remembered and they never let his memory perish the way he did.

McGee named his son Tony in his honour.

Ziva took to wearing a saint Anthony medal, despite her Jewish origins.

Abby tattooed his name just above her heart.

Ducky told countless stories of the man he thought was so remarkable.

And Gibbs finally built his final boat, he found he just couldn't burn 'The DiNozzo'.

...

**A/N. Please don't hate me for killing Tony, I just couldn't convince myself that this story could have a happy ending. Hope you all enjoyed it and aren't too disappointed. Let me know what your opinion is.**

**Thanks for reading**

**.x.**


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